


The Fourth Dimension

by kirana



Category: Smallville
Genre: Futurefic, M/M, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-04-29
Updated: 2006-04-29
Packaged: 2017-10-02 21:27:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kirana/pseuds/kirana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If you could turn back time, if you could find a way--would you?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Fourth Dimension

        He opened his eyes as he slowed down and gave himself time to look at the planet he had been circling. It didn't look much different from what he remembered, but, barring a world catastrophe or two, it would take a lot more than what he'd seen to change the physical face of the world.  
        He shifted both his trajectory and speed, inserting himself into the atmosphere neatly and, he hoped, undetected. It had been a while since he'd absolutely _had_ to escape detection; the only heartening thought was that the Earth's detection systems were less sophisticated than he was used to. Another cheering thought was there was no megalomaniac looking for 'glitches' that might herald his passage.  
        He focused on his self-imposed mission again and oriented himself. Kansas was his destination.

***

  
        Clark stared up at the sun, momentarily puzzled. He turned his head back and forth, searching for . . . something. He could've sworn . . . .  
        He shook his head and lowered his eyes to scowl at the tractor again. Darn thing had broken down in a highly visible spot and now he had to get it going where it was, regardless of what he'd thought he'd heard. He crouched down again and prepared to do battle with mechanical innards again.  
        A shadow fell over him and he reached a blind hand back. "Could you pass me that doohickey, Dad?" he asked, squinting inside the engine and mentally clucking at the less than pristine insides. He waited. And waited. "Dad?" Finally, the tool he'd asked for was slapped into his hand. "Thanks." He flipped the screwdriver over until he was holding the shaft and worked his arm into the inner workings of the Beast of Hell—his unofficial name for the contrary tractor—and started banging what he hoped was the right place. Due to his uncomfortable position, he was unable to make sure of his aim, even with x-ray vision, but he had high hopes.  
        "Did you try the battery? Looks like your wires may be loose."  
        "Lex?!" Clark hit his elbow and his head at the same time as he tried to extract himself from the tractor. "Darnit!" When he finally extracted himself, Lex had moved to the other side of the tractor, where he was, presumably, peering under the hood. "Lex?"  
        "Give me a minute . . . . There!" Lex stretched until he could see Clark, grinning sharply. "Why don't you try it now, kiddo?"  
        _Kiddo_?! Since _when_? Slightly offended, Clark got to his feet and dusted himself off before climbing into the seat of the tractor. "Stand back," he warned as he reached for the ignition. He bit back an exclamation of surprise when the tractor started at once. "Awright! Thanks, Lex!" But when he turned to grin at his friend, there was no one there. Confused, Clark stood up and searched a slow circle around himself. He even x-rayed underneath the tractor in case Lex thought is was a 'good' place to hide. As he'd half-suspected, Lex was nowhere to be found.  
        He could always ask Lex later if he had a mechanically-inclined twin lying around somewhere. Then he snorted as he shifted the tractor into gear. _Yeah, I can totally see that. A 'Lex, I thought I saw you today, but when I looked again, you were gone. What happened?' from me. An 'I have no idea what you're talking about, Clark. By the way, I could have sworn you were standing beside me yesterday, but when I looked again, you were gone. Lots of coincidences around, aren't there' from him. Yes, this is definitely a line of questioning that will pan out. Not._  
        He heaved a sigh and let the tractor rumble forward. Yet another of Smallville's mysteries had obviously visited him; he had no doubt it would reveal itself at the most annoying moment possible.

***

  
        "Casey's Field is done!" Clark called as he toed off his boots. He detoured to the fridge and, with a furtive look around, drank some milk directly from jug. "Mom? Dad?" He knew they were home; the truck was still here and they hadn't had any plans to go to town.  
        "We're in the family room, Clark," his mother finally said, although her voice sounded a bit strange.  
        He frowned. The family room? What about supper? They were supposed to eat before they were allowed to watch TV!  
        "Clark, why don't you join us in here?" His father, now, and he didn't sound any less strange.  
        This was definitely not normal. The amazing appearing, disappearing Lex, no supper on the table, _and_ both of his parents sounding strange . . . . Looked like this was the annoying moment it would be resolved. First, though . . . . He scanned through the wall to see what he was walking into. If it was someone stupid enough to pull a gun on his parents, well, that sort was probably the easiest to deal with. But, no, his parents were sitting where they usually sat, maybe a bit stiffer than normal, but nothing alarming. There _was_ someone else in the room, sitting where _he_ usually sat. He x-rayed that person's skeleton, a feeling of disquiet growing at the odd placement of the bones. Human? On the surface, maybe, but a mutant was far, far more likely. Taller than him, too, which only made it more likely to be a mutation.  
        "Mom? Dad? Everything okay?" He moved slowly for the entrance into the family room, debating his options. He could rush in and throw the intruder against the wall, but what if it was one of the few benign mutations Smallville threw out from time to time? He winced. Not to mention what his mom would say if he did that. He could take his time and see what happened, but since this wasn't like Lex's place, where it took half an hour to get from the front door to Lex's office, that plan didn't look too viable. He could just walk in and find out what the stranger was doing.  
        He arrived at the doorway. Well, looked like his choice was made for him.  
        "You wanted . . . me . . . .?" His voice trailed off as his surreptitious glance at the stranger turned into an outright stare. It was . . . him! He was sitting in his spot, but he was also here! He frowned and switched to x-ray again. Nope, still no glowing green bones. "Tina?" he tried, although how she'd fixed her bones was a good question. Nemmind, a good question would be how she was back _from the dead_ and sitting in his parents' house and wearing his face again.  
        The not-him chuckled. "Not even close," he was told cheerfully.  
        "Mom?" Appealing to the higher power in the house was surely a good course of action.  
        His mom cleared her throat. "Clark, I'd like you to meet," she hesitated, "Clark."  
        The not-him gave him a lazy salute. "Greetings, junior. I come in peace."  
        "Mom?" A second appeal couldn't hurt. Maybe . . . it was an April Fool's joke? And they'd hired this guy that was incredibly similar to him and, incidentally, had freaky bones for it? A bit late for it, maybe, but anything for a joke, right?  
        Not-him leaned forward. "Our mother speaks the truth, Kal-El."  
        He whipped his gaze back to the stranger. "What did you call me?" And the stranger had spoken Kryptonian! A much better accent than he had, too, he noted reluctantly.  
        The stranger leaned back and grinned. "Kal-El. That _is_ our name."  
        He shook his head tightly, anger beginning to grow in him. "I don't know what you think you know, but my name's Clark Kent."  
        Not-him nodded. "That, too," he said agreeably.  
        "Who are you?" he challenged sharply. Maybe he had a twin . . . ? And an obscure Kryptonian custom required that twins got the same names?  
        A chuckle. "No, we're not related that way." Another laugh as his eyes widened. "And, no, I'm not reading your mind. That's just what I would have thought when I was your age."  
        He narrowed his eyes. Age, huh? He looked the guy over again and saw remarkably few signs of aging. Until he looked into the green eyes and saw more years than belonged on a face that youthful. "You're me, aren't you?" he asked slowly. "Me from the future."  
        "A future, actually," he was corrected. He shook his head, grinning. "Knew you were smart enough to figure it out on your own."  
        Clark frowned at him. "Well, of course. If I'm you and you're me," and he'd have to get some proper proof of that soon. But not too soon, because his proof would probably end up being embarrassing personal secrets he never, ever told anyone, much less his parents, "you'd remember figuring it out, right?"  
        "Wrong, actually. I don't remember a future me coming back to visit me, spewing warnings of the dangers to come. But it was a good guess, nonetheless. Time, it appears, is not limited to the straight and narrow."  
        Oooookay. "How did you come back?" Clark asked. "_Why_ did you come back?" Warnings from the future. "If you don't remember being visited when you were my age, aren't you creating some sort of paradox? In changing the past, aren't you also altering your present?"  
        The future him shrugged. "Possibly. There's a lot we don't know about time travel. _Why_ I came back is because, well, because. We can talk about it later. How I came back involved . . . an interesting application of speed." He grinned sharply, reminding Clark, for one moment, of Lex in Casey's Field. "Sorry, junior, no time travel machine involved."  
        "Could you not call me that?" Clark asked, annoyed by the nickname he had, essentially, given himself. Maybe he would turn into this huge asshole in the future who liked to make fun of people. But even so, he was interested in the implication he could use his powers to go back in time.  
        "Then what should I call you?" His poker face would definitely be getting better, if the innocence shining at him was anything to judge by.  
        "How about Clark?"  
        "But then we'll get confused because that's my name, too."  
        Clark scowled. "Why don't we go out to the barn and find out if you really are me before we give you any names?" he suggested.  
        "Why don't we all stay together, Clark?" his father interjected hastily. "Wouldn't it be safer if we all stayed in one place? Especially if this turns out to be another one of those mutants? No offense," he added hastily, but Clark's older self showed no signs of irritation.  
        "No," Clark said slowly. "I think it would be better to be in the barn for this." He grinned. "No offense, Mom, Dad, but I think the only way for me to make sure that this guy is who he says he is to ask some, um, embarrassing questions." His face flushed, but he made sure to keep eye contact with his father, especially. It wasn't the only reason, but it was one that was pretty sure to keep his father from listening in and, more importantly, keep him out of the line of fire if this turned out to be a sham.  
        His father's face reddened as he watched. Finally, his father made a gesture he took to mean as to do whatever he wanted; there were some things, it seemed, fathers were not meant to know of and were happy to keep it that way. He switched his gaze to his other self and cocked his head. In response, the other him rose off the couch and preceded him to the door.  
        "Nice technique," the other him said as they crossed over to the barn and Clark's Fortress of Solitude. "It's always a good idea to get civilians out of the way when taking on someone potentially dangerous."  
        Clark's eyebrows raised. _Civilians? Am I going to join the army or something?_ "So how are we going to do this?" he asked once they were comfortably ensconced in the loft. He'd sat on the couch while the person claiming to be him leaned against a support by the stairs.  
        "I suppose a recital of your powers would not suffice?" he was asked lazily. Clark frowned, remembering the files Lex had given him. No, because, apparently, his powers were so obvious he shouldn't even be bothering to hide them. Not-him sighed. "Then I guess a race to the moon and back is out of the question," he said mournfully.  
        Clark's eyes bugged out. "The _moon_?" he squeaked. "How would we get _there_?" Forget about the mechanics of it; he didn't even want to _think_ about being that high.  
        His other self favoured him with a grin. "That's right," he drawled. "You can't fly yet. Or rather, _you_ don't fly yet." Green eyes glittered with amusement and Clark flushed. He rather felt like he was being toyed with.  
        "What scene did I make a diorama out of in grade three?" he blurted out.  
        The older man waved a hand, dismissing the question of trivial. "Try something else; that's not nearly embarrassing enough."  
        "I'll have you know I was very traumatized by that," Clark objected, but without much heat. It was true, he should have chosen something Pete would not take great pleasure in telling all and sundry. He leaned forward. "Okay, then, who have I ever had a crush on?"  
        His other self frowned. "Chloe," he said slowly, then cracked a grin. "Right up until she kissed you 'to get it out of the way', that is. Lana, of course. Kyla. Alicia." Then he shrugged. "Plus a few others you haven't met yet. I am, of course, not including anyone you went after that summer in Metropolis. A general lack of restraint does not a crush make." He leaned his head back and regarded the ceiling. "You kinda have bad taste in girls, you know," he added almost absently. "You'd do much better to stick with the boys. There you have Whitney, that _cute_ thing who played basketball when you lost your powers to Eric, who, by the way, had a _fine_ ass, Cyrus the wannabe Kryptonian, even Jason Teague has caught your eye a time or three." He gave a sharp grin. "But your best bet is with Lex. Dangerously curious, yes, but at least he's not stupid."  
        Clark couldn't reply. "Chloe's not stupid," he said, his voice a thin thread of sound. Cold had settled in him, deepening with every name that passed through his future self's lips.  
        "No, she isn't," the other Clark mused. "She just doesn't always think things through." He gave a short, sharp laugh. "Not that Lex always does, either, but at least he's not likely to use it against you."  
        Clark dropped his head into his hands, too shaken inside to respond. He heard a sigh, then felt the couch dip beside him. "Sorry," the older man said quietly. "I . . . it's a bit odd, being back here and knowing things other people don't. I guess I shouldn't've put it quite like that." There was a pause. "Guess what, Clark, looks like you're going to grow up to be a grade-A asshole."  
        Clark turned his head sideways just in time to see a ghost of a smile on his older self's face. "So what should I call you?" he asked finally. "I can't keep on thinking of you as 'Older-me'. Or," he added as an afterthought, "Grade-A Asshole."  
        The other man grinned and leaned back thoughtfully. "How about 'Digger' Kent?" he offered. "I could be your long-lost cousin, fresh from the Klondike." He held out a hand. "Just call me Kal L. Kent. Real name Kalvin, because, hey, why be too original?"  
        Clark sent him a half-hearted glare and batted away the out-stretched hand. "Ha. Ha. And shouldn't it be Kal E. Kent?"  
        "Nah, I'll take our mother's name for my middle," 'Kal' said with satisfaction. "Lara Lor-Van," he elaborated at Clark's look of surprise. "Yeah, Jor-El wouldn't tell you about Lara; too soft for his dreams for you."  
        _Well, **obviously** I had a biological mother as well,_ Clark thought, mentally rolling his eyes at himself. _What, did I think I'd budded off of Jor-El or something?_  
        "Word to the wise, though," Kal said thoughtfully. "Jor-El can teach you a lot, but I wouldn't listen unless it has a direct impact on your abilities." The older man grinned. "Hell, now that I'm here, maybe I can give you a sort of heads-up, make sure you don't have to rely on that bag of wind."  
        Clark's forehead wrinkled. "Should you be doing that? I mean, you're drastically changing your past, here. Isn't there going to be, I dunno, an irreparable tear in the space-time continuum?"  
        Kal very carefully did not sigh. "Clark. Child. I'm already doing that, just by coming back, don't you think? And, while we're on thinking, d'you think I didn't do some thinking of my own before I decided to come back?"  
        Clark flushed; no, he hadn't quite thought of that. Then he frowned. "Why did you come back, anyway? You said we'd talk about it later."  
        Kal laughed. "Sorry," he said, not sounding the least bit. "And try to have some patience, junior. All shall be revealed in due time."  
        "So what's wrong now?" Clark persisted. "Do you have to wait for a particular moment to tell me?"  
        Kal's grin dimmed a bit. "Nothing's wrong with now, not exactly," he said slowly. He gave a half-shrug. "It's just . . . you won't like hearing it. And, given the way I over-reacted to just about everything when I was your age, well, I just don't see you acting any more mature than the seventeen year old you are."  
        "What do you mean by that?" Clark asked, stung. "And I'm almost eighteen!"  
        "I _mean_, you have a tendency to jump to conclusions, fling accusations around like they didn't mean something, and then run off without waiting for an explanation," Kal said sharply, ignoring the age correction. He softened his expression right after. "You're still a teenager, Clark," he said gently, "and you're still very, very young, even to me. Maybe especially to me. You've been sheltered most of your life and even the growing up you've had to do lately, well, let's just say you're not finished with it yet."  
        Well. Realistically, Clark knew that Kal had to be right, no matter how grown-up he thought he was. He knew that maturity was relative and while he considered himself more mature than most of his classmates, he was not, realistically, ready for life-and-death decisions. Other than, of course, the split-second ones he had already had to make. And, in hindsight, those might not have turned out so well.  
        That rationalisation absolutely failed to make him feel better.  
        "I'll take a look around, see what sort of situation I've got here," Kal continued thoughtfully. "What I can tell you will depend on what I can find out. Sorry, kid, you'll have to be patient."  
        Clark flashed him an annoyed look. "Could you not call me 'kid'?" he asked again.  
        "Sure thing, kid," Kal said freely. Clark considered using some speed to smack him without his knowing, but reluctantly concluded that, if Kal was, as he said, Clark's future self, he would be more than able to counter it.  
        Which brought up another question. Aside from verifying that Kal knew some deep, dark secrets of his—which could also be explained away through use of telepathy and never mind that Ryan hadn't been able to read his mind—he'd actually done nothing to prove he had Clark's powers.  
        "So, you said you could fly?" Okay, so smooth it wasn't, but if he was going to be treated as the gauche and bumbling kid, he might as well act like it.  
        "Yeah, that's right. Why? Want me to show you how?" Kal's grin was sharp and teasing all at the same time, neither of which did much to settle Clark's stomach when he thought about seeing the ground from higher than, say, the barn. And even then, without actually _looking_ at the ground.  
        "Pass," he muttered, staring at the ground. He jumped a bit when Kal laid his arm over Clark's shoulder.  
        "Sorry again." He paused for a moment. "It's beautiful, Clark," he said softly. "To be able to fly. It's . . . like running as fast as you can, but, somehow, better. There's absolutely no limits on your movement." Then he laughed. "And it's a very convenient way to get from one place to another. It may be possible to run all the way over the ocean, but why when you can fly?"  
        Okay, and that wasn't helping, either. Although . . . . "You can run on water?" Clark asked curiously.  
        "Yeah, I can," Kal replied. "You should be able to, as well. After all, if you're going fast enough, water's as hard as the ground, right?"  
        All right, so that made sense. Sort of. He made a note to try it out as soon as possible.  
        "Let's see . . . . There's the flying, for you to look forward to." Clark made a face and Kal grinned at him. "Yeah, I can just see how much you long for the airy nothing beneath your soles. Don't worry, kid, it's not like the fall'll kill you." Kal continued while Clark thought that over a bit. "You still have the Freezing Breath of Doom, too, and the Kiss of Lethe ahead of you. It'll only take some thinking on your part to realise that, hey, super-strong body equals super-strong lungs and there you'll have your super-breath."  
        "Are those the real names?" Clark asked suspiciously.  
        Kal coughed. "Um, no. Not really. But it was better than tacking 'super' onto everything."  
        "So what happened with the super-breath?" Clark wanted to know. It was fun, getting just a little bit of his own back.  
        Kal sent him a peevish look. "Because 'super-breath' sounded infinitely better than 'Big Bag of Wind'."  
        "But couldn't you've called it Aeolus' Might or something?" Clark asked innocently enough.  
        "No, I couldn't've," Kal said shortly. Wow, something struck a nerve there. "So you're convinced I'm who I say I am?" Kal said in an abrupt change of topic.  
        "Yeah, I suppose so," Clark said slowly.  
        "Then can we go back to the house? Mom just took a pie out of the oven."  
        _Well, that's that, then,_ Clark thought, grinning as he followed Kal. _Mom's pie takes precedence to everything, including any pressing issues of identity._

***

  
        "Where do you think you're going?"  
        Clark stopped and glared. "To the castle, _Mom_," he said shortly. "Why? Did you want to come?"  
        Kal stood up smoothly. "I think I will, thanks."  
        Clark groaned. "Aw, c'mon," he whined. "I'm just going to visit Lex. We're supposed to have the mother of all pool tournaments tonight!"  
        "Kinda hard to have a proper tournament with only two players," Kal observed blandly.  
        Clark glared. "Marathon, then," he snapped.  
        "Clark, Kal, no fighting!" Both winced at their mother's admonishment, hardly the first one since Kal had unceremoniously dropped in.  
        "I suppose you can come," Clark said grudgingly as he headed out the door. A slight breeze and Kal was outside and waiting for him.  
        "We don't have all day, you know."  
        Clark glared at his future self again for good measure, then used his speed to get a head start on Kal. after all, _he'd_ started it.  
        "Surely you don't think this's challenging," Kal said from beside him with an angelic smile. He was easily keeping pace with Clark and Clark gritted his teeth.  
        "Could you stop showing off?" he demanded as they stopped just before anyone in Luthor castle would be able to see them.  
        Kal chuckled and ruffled his hair. That, of course, did nothing to endear him to Clark. "Sorry, Junior, I've never really had anyone close to my level to play with." It was funny how Kal didn't sound sorry at all.  
        Clark decided the best thing to do would be to ignore him as they walked to the side entrance, as hard as it was. He entered the code and waved Kal through before him.  
        "Hello, Clark," Lex's voice said. Clark winced and pushed in front of Kal. He saw Lex look between the two of them. "And Clark. This is a new one for me. Either of you care to let me in on the joke?"  
        Kal grinned, his entire manner becoming open and easy-going in an instant. "You sure know how to turn a guy's head, mister," the older man said easily. "Nah, I'm not Clark! He's my little cousin!" He walked forward with his hand extended. "Kalvin L. Kent, at your service. 'Digger' Kent, if you want. I've been up in the Klondike." Clark stared at his 'cousin' with a mixture of genuine awe for his ability to lie and shock for his brazenness at _flirting_ with Lex. Hello! Lex was kind of straight!  
        He got a queer feeling in his stomach when Lex, astonishingly, relaxed a bit at the exchange and gave Kal a quick look up and down. Lex wasn't . . . straight? What the hell had he been doing, then, with all those _girl_friends? Man, if he'd known Lex wasn't straight, they coulda been having _yea_—  
        He cut himself off. This was definitely not the time. "I hope you don't mind, Lex," Clark said apologetically—at least he didn't have to lie about _that_. He shuffled his feet and peeked upwards. "I kinda felt a bit sorry for him."  
        "No, it's all right, Clark," Lex said, still a bit bemused as he gestured for the two Kents to precede him further into the castle. "As a matter of fact, you're not the only one with family visiting."  
        Clark made a face. "Your father's here?"  
        Lex shook his head. "Actually, it's my cousin, Alexei," he replied. "I was named for him, but I haven't seen him for a long time." The bald man turned a measuring look on Kal. "I think he's about your age or thereabouts, Kalvin."  
        Clark frowned. He didn't want to, but four years of playing protector to a weird-ass town had conditioned him to jumping to the most far-fetched conclusions right at the beginning, so as to save time working through all the wrong—and logical—ones. And this learned reflex was thinking: _Gee, it's kinda odd that Lex has a cousin he's never mentioned before, that he's named for, at the same time I have to introduce this future me as my cousin, using my other name. My, this **is** a coincidence._ That learned reflex was going to get him into trouble some day.  
        _But not today_, he thought faintly as he stopped dead in the doorway to Lex's office. Lex was behind him, he _knew_ that, but . . . his eyes told him Lex was in front of him, casually going through the pool cues, _handling_ them the _exact_ same way _Lex_ did.  
        This was not a good day.  
        "C'mon, junior, not all of us wanna stand half in, half out all day," Kal said, prodding Clark between the shoulder blades. Then he must have looked up, because Clark could _feel_ him stiffen up at the sight of 'Alexei'.  
        "Gentlemen," Lex said smoothly. "My cousin, Alexei."

***

  
        Clark was nervous and it showed. He hadn't sunk a single ball, which was why Lex, as his teammate, had gently, but firmly, taken the cue away from him and directed him to 'stay out of the way and we might not lose too badly'. He gnawed on his thumb; for Lex to accept losing so easily was strange. The obvious tension between Kal and Alexei, as much as they both tried to hide it, was even stranger.  
        "That's it," Lex said finally, straightening up before he took his shot. He smiled grimly. "I forfeit. You guys work together too well." Clark noted both Alexei and Kal looked surprised.  
        "You're kind to say so, Lex," Kal said, recovering first. "But I think for the next game, I'll take my cousin on my team, give you a fighting chance."  
        "Nonsense," Alexei interjected smoothly, and grinned sharply. "I insist I take Clark as my partner. You and Lex can play together."  
        Clark wasn't happy about this. And he wasn't happy when Kal, with only a moment to show his hesitation, agreed. Clark scowled as he moved to join Alexei; he felt like a commodity Kal and Alexei had traded. _Here, you can have my younger self if I can have your younger self_, he thought facetiously. If, as his wildest conclusion stated, Lex was suffering from futureselfitis as well.  
        "You break," Kal said with a grin. "You'll need all the help you can get."  
        "Thanks, cousin," Clark said through gritted teeth as Alexei bent over and broke. He resolutely kept his eyes away from the older man's ass, although he had shown no such restraint with Lex, just in case it turned out, through some strange coincidence only Smallville was capable of, Alexei really _was_ just Lex's cousin.  
        "Solids," Alexei said as Clark took aim. "Remember, Clark, keep your eye on the target."  
        Clark was surprised the pool table didn't burst into flame from his glare. He didn't _need_ advice on how to play pool, he just needed things to be _normal_. One Clark, one Lex.  
        He relaxed his shoulders and tried to dismiss Kal's irritating humming from his mind.  
        " . . . I will fly you to the moon and back," his older self sang. Alexei snickered. Clark scratched.  
        "Would you like another try?" Lex asked Clark. He shot a sideways glance at his erstwhile partner. "Perhaps this time without a distraction?"  
        Clark glared at Kal. "No, thanks," he said. "I think maybe I should sit this one out, too."  
        Lex racked his cue. "Then I will, too," he said immediately. "To keep the teams even." He joined Clark by the wall.  
        Kal gestured courteously for Alexei to take his shot, but the bald man waved it away. "It was a scratch, no matter how it came to happen." He grinned. "Thanks," he added, though it wasn't clear what he was thanking Kal for.  
        Kal looked surprised, then smiled crookedly. "No problem."  
        "Your cousin seems nice," Lex observed quietly as he and Clark watched the game. Clark scowled and Lex laughed softly. "Maybe not?" he suggested.  
        "He's just . . . annoying."  
        "I heard that," Kal said from where he was aiming. Clark covertly flipped him the bird, well and truly tired of his future self's all-knowing attitude. "I saw that, too."  
        Lex laughed again. "Can't get away with anything, huh? I know the feeling."  
        "Your cousin being a pain in your backside?" Clark asked.  
        Lex grimaced. "I wouldn't put it like that," he demurred.  
        "Because I can hear you from here," Alexei said, still with his back to them.  
        Clark grinned, half sympathetic. "I'd offer to trade you," he said, "but, I dunno . . . something tells me that wouldn't be a good idea."  
        Lex shot him a sharp glance. "Yeah, I'm beginning to think the same thing."

***

  
        Clark hugged his pillow closer, more than content to drift in that period between sleeping and waking a little bit longer. Here, there was no Kal to annoy him, no kryptomutants to throw him around. There was only pale skin under his hands and heated eyes smiling at him. "Mmmmm . . . ."  
        "Rise and shine, kid! The day waits for no man, be he human or Kryptonian!"  
        Clark woke with a start at the thunderous knocking on his door. He dropped his pillow and stared at it for one uncomprehending moment before his eyes widened and he followed it with a thump.  
        This was, of course, when Kal opened the door and walked in. He raised his eyebrows and smirked at Clark. "Pleasant dreams?" he asked innocently. He ducked the pillow Clark flung. "C'mon, junior, we have little to do and much time to do it in."  
        "Then why do I have to be up so early?" Clark asked sulkily.  
        "Because I'm older than you, that's why." Kal reached over and smacked Clark's feet. "Hurry up and I'll even help you with the chores."  
        Clark dragged himself out of bed, wincing at the new creak from the frame, and shoved his hands through his hair. "What're you in such a hurry for?" he grumbled as he pushed himself up.  
        "We're going spelunking," was the reply given.  
        "Spelunking," Clark repeated and frowned. "Didn't you tell me to stay away from Jor-El?"  
        Kal waved a hand dismissively. "Nah, I'll be with you, you'll be safe enough." He headed out the door. "Hurry up, kid!"  
        Clark grimaced. "Yeah, and that makes me feel sooooo much better," he muttered.  
        "Stop muttering and get up already!" Clark thought about a discreet gesture of disrespect, but . . . . "Remember, Big Brother's watching you!"  
        "You know, it's a good thing Mom and Dad aren't home right now!" Clark called as he pulled a clean shirt over his head.  
        "Yeah, 'cause now I get to boss you around with no one the wiser. Move it, junior!"

***

  
        "So, what are we looking for?" Clark asked after they'd ducked the guards with absent-minded ease and entered the caves.  
        "_We_ aren't looking for anything," Kal said. "_You_ are going to amuse yourself while _I_ talk with Jor-El."  
        Clark scowled. "Why can't I come with you?" he asked, annoyed at the whine he had developed in his association with Kal.  
        "Because I can fly and you can't, that's why, and the things I'm going to be discussing with Jor-El are not meant for your tender ears."  
        "That's not a real answer!"  
        "No?" Kal favoured him with that faintly amused look he was so fond of. "But it's all the answer you're going to get. Oh, hey, look, it's the condom dispenser!"  
        Momentarily diverted, Clark followed Kal's pointing finger and flushed. "That's not a condom dispenser!" he said in a too-loud voice.  
        "But you have to admit, the mem-store you found certainly looked like one." Clark's ears burned and Kal chuckled. "And then we have our main attraction," Kal continued, "the one, the only, Naman and Seget, immortalised in ancient paint, in the throes of a passionate kiss!"  
        Clark made the mistake of looking again before his ears relayed Kal's words and his face got even hotter. "They're not kissing!" he protested weakly, because now that he looked at it, that was all he could see. "They're . . . biting each other's heads off!"  
        Kal sent him a sly look. "Didn't think you had it in you, kid," he said approvingly. Clark wondered what he meant for a long moment and then his brain provided another interesting picture for him to blush about. Kal continued on as if he hadn't made it his goal in life to make one Clark Kent die of embarrassment. "Don't touch the walls, junior, they're old and fragile."  
        And with that parting comment, he left Clark staring after him as he gave one look at the 'lock' wall that apparently prompted the door further down to be opened. _He_ had to do the whole rigmarole with the key and the password still. He sighed and turned away. Life just wasn't fair.  
        He studiously kept his eyes away from the depiction of Naman and his great brother-turned-enemy, lest he yet again try for spontaneous combustion. Thing was, if he kept his feet on the floor, there wasn't a lot that was interesting down there. He was debating the pros and cons of dying from embarrassment when the white light from beyond the door—and, no, he didn't think his ancestors where the slightest bit mythic, either—hit him. He looked up and opened his mouth to ask Kal a question, but all there was was a slight breeze and the door closing again. He closed his mouth again and frowned, glancing speculatively at the now-closed door, then at the security lights at the other end of the cave. Something . . . was not right.  
        He sharpened his hearing, straining to hear Kal beyond the wall. He knew it could be done, had done it in a perfunctory manner when he had been 'Kal', but either it only worked when he was on the other side of the door or Kal had been the source of the breeze that had blown by him. He shaped a silent whistle. He knew he was faster now than he'd been even five years ago, but for Kal to have raced by him as he raced by everyone else, _that_ was some serious speed.  
        But why had he left in such a hurry? It wasn't as if he'd really spent a lot of time talking with Jor-El. He frowned again. He didn't really like to think of his time as 'Kal', either the one hopped up on red kryptonite or the son Jor-El had always wanted, but he thought he remembered a few technical manuals on the working of the AI that had subsumed the personality algorithms of Jor-El sometime before he had blown the ship up. He should be able to find the mem-stores of the conversation between Jor-El and his future self and find out what happened himself.  
        Assuming, of course, he could get in. Clark scowled at the wall after trying to get in, first Kal's way, and then his old, humdrum sort of way. Kal had to have done something to lock the cave down. Maybe he was trying to protect Clark? After all, he'd warned Clark away from Jor-El, hadn't he? Locking the door to the AI was a pretty good way to keep them away from each other.  
        There was a flicker at the edge of his vision and he turned to see Kal standing there, holding something in his arms. No, not just something, but . . . Lex? Great, he lied to Lex all this time and his secret was outed because his future self had, what? Some deep, twisted need to make him writhe like a worm on a hook?  
        "Uh, Kal?" he asked nervously. "Um, what are you doing?"  
        "Doing what I should have done when I first came back here," his future self said. "Get out of my way, Clark. I don't want to hurt you."  
        Clark narrowed his eyes. Yeah, that didn't sound good. Especially not when coupled with how Lex was trying to get away but, of course, not succeeding. "So what's this thing you should have done first?" he asked carefully. He tried to casually get into a better position than that of twisted half backwards.  
        Kal's laugh had a slight edge of panic to it. "What I should have done?" he repeated. "I'm making sure Seget will never bother you again, that's what I'm doing! See, it's a favour, really." His eyes, however, struck a chord of remembrance within Clark.  
        Clark thought it would be best to play for some time to figure this out. He squinted at Kal's eyes again. Half-hopeless, they seemed, desperate for . . . what? "And how will you be doing that?" he asked.  
        "Take a guess, junior." At least Kal's sarcasm was still working.  
        "Brainwashing?" Clark tried.  
        Another short, ugly laugh. "Not him," he said, confusing Clark even more. "No, Jor-El said there was only one way to make sure your future doesn't happen the way mine did."  
        "Hey, wait, didn't you say _I_ shouldn't listen to Jor-El? How come you should? I mean, didn't he do all that brainwashing and stuff to you, too?"  
        Kal rolled his eyes. "Yeah, but I've grown a lot since then and have had my mind controlled by entities a lot stronger than him. He wasn't able to hook me so easily this time."  
        "But . . . that implies he _did_ . . . ." Clark gaped at his future self, standing there with Lex in his arms and that half-crazed fear in his eyes Clark remembered when Mom had first separated him from Kal.  
        "Immaterial now, kid," Kal was saying, dragging Clark's attention back to the situation at hand. "If you think you can take him from me, go ahead and try."  
        Uh, no? Kal moved far too fast, could _fly_, dammit, and had already shown Clark he could beat him hands-down in an arm-wrestling match. "Why don't we talk about this?" he asked, trying to buy some more time. As long as he kept Kal talking, it looked like whatever control Jor-El had tried to exert on his mind was temporarily put on hold.  
        "Yeah, right, and have you talk me out of this? Trust me, Clark, your life will be so much sweeter once Seget here is out of your life."  
        "But he _is_ part of my life right now," Clark countered. "What makes you think I'll let you get away with this?"  
        "Oh, get real," Kal said disparagingly. "Your so-called 'friendship of legend' has taken more than a few turns for the worst lately, hasn't it? If I let him live now, how long do you think it'll take for 'friendship' to turn into 'enmity'?"  
        "You said you're changing your own past just by coming back," Clark reminded him desperately. "Who's to say you haven't changed it enough yet for your time to have been changed as well?"  
        "Yeah, well, why take the chance? Do you really want to live your life, knowing your best friend, your very _heart_, hates you and all you stand for, hates you for all the _lies_ you told, all the stupid decisions you made? Wouldn't you rather make it a clean break? Remember him as he could have been instead of the suffocating _reality_? And if I don't do this, let me tell you _you_ damn well won't be able to, either."  
        "Then why are you doing it now?" Clark persisted. "If I can't kill him and I'm your past and _you_ haven't killed him," because it was kinda obvious Alexei was Lex, "why do you think you can now?" Okay, so a shining example of logic, this was not, but every moment he kept Kal talking was a moment in which Lex wasn't dying. Then it hit him. Dying. God. He had to get Lex away from Kal. "You told me not to listen to Jor-El! Why are you doing his dirty work now?"  
        "Please. As if our father could pull the wool over my eyes again. Now, I'll have to ask you to move to one side, _kid_," Kal said, starting forward. "Jor-El and I have some business here with Seget."  
        Alarmed, Clark held out his arms, blocking as much of the passage as he could. To his surprise, Kal stopped moving forward. "Have you thought about _why_ Jor-El wants him out of the way?" Clark asked desperately. "Maybe . . . maybe Jor-El sees him as the only one who can stop me on the whole 'world conquest' thing he wants me to do!"  
        "And why would he do that?" Kal said derisively. "It's not like we ever really tried for that stupid thing. Oh, sure," he said, raising his voice just a bit when Clark opened his mouth, "there's always the red k trips, but it's not like Jor-El would want us to rule the world as a spoiled brat, either."  
        Personally, Clark didn't think Jor-El much care _how_ the world was ruled, as long as everyone on it knew _who_ ruled it. He opened his mouth to again try to buy some time and, hopefully, talk long enough to counteract whatever pile of steaming shit Jor-El had made his future self's brain into. Too bad he was interrupted before he'd even started.  
        "Clark!" The shout was familiar and welcome, but, unfortunately, from the wrong throat. Alexei appeared from around the cave's corner, striding towards their little tableau as if it was nothing strange to confront his (apparent) arch nemesis, his childhood friend, and his younger self. _And maybe it isn't,_ Clark thought, half hysterical with that strange mixture of hope and fear. _Maybe this happens all the time in my future._ "Clark, you have to keep him away from the cave!" Alexei shouted, reaching out to wrench Kal's shoulder around. But before his hand could actually close around Kal's shoulder, he was gone, a whisper of sound running around the cave fading quickly into something only Clark could hear.  
        _"You should have listened to me,"_ Clark heard. _"You should have let me by. Lucky for you, though, the cave isn't the only place I can go. I'll see you in the future, Clark."_  
        And then Alexei was walking towards him, fumbling with his wrist. "Take this and put it in your ear," he said peremptorily, abandoning his wrist in favour of his pocket. Whatever he'd taken out, he shoved into Clark's hand. "Don't ask questions," he said, cutting off Clark, who had just taken a look and seen a tiny earbud, "just do it. Think of it as one of those earpieces the Agents in the Matrix liked so much. No, it doesn't look like them," cutting Clark off yet again. "They're self-contained and will let us keep in contact with each other." It was amazing how he could predict what Clark was going to do while he was doing that fumbling thing with his wrist again.  
        Clark did as he was told, doing some fumbling of his own. "Is that the control?" he asked, putting the earbud in place. "I mean, your wrist . . . ?"  
        "No." And then Alexei was shoving something else into his hand. A small piece of black . . . .  
        Clark sucked in a breath and tried to recoil, but Alexei had his right hand wrapped tight around his wrist. "What . . . how do you have this?" Not quite the answers he wanted to know, but his higher thought processes had been scattered in his initial panic.  
        "It's not what you think," Alexei snapped. And, yeah, he could still see Lex in him, but it was hard, a titanium core around the man he knew. "It powers my hand." And he held up his left hand, now hanging . . . limp, with a small flap of skin pulled back to show the sort of wiring he'd thought he was more likely to see on Luke Skywalker than on his best friend, future self of him or not. A quick peek with x-ray eyes turned into a long stare, because, yeah, Luke Skywalker? Had _nothing_ on Lex Luthor. "Oh, don't look at it like that. It was the kryptonite, it can cause cancer."  
        Clark gaped. "And you used it to power your _hand_?" Obviously, he'd have to stick close to Lex in the future; all the knocks to the head had messed with his brain.  
        That got him a look rich in "you're so stupid". "No, the green kryptonite causes cancer. The black stuff is relatively inert unless it comes into contact with a Kryptonian with MPD, in which case there is a battle royale where the dominant personality comes out on top." A quick look was flicked Clark-wards. "Contrary to what _some_ believe, black kryptonite will not, in fact, 'kill' a personality if brought into contact with it; it's merely the strength gained from a placebo-type effect that allows the dominant personality to, in fact, dominate. The black k just . . . brings both personalities to the fore."  
        So, basically, when he and Kal-El had duked it out, it really was a case of mind over matter. Of course, this begged the question of how Alexei—Lex—knew all that.  
        The grip on his wrist tightened. "Don't think about that now," Alexei told him, grabbing hold of his gaze and not letting it go. "You have to go after him. _Them_. Unless you want Lex to die."  
        "But what if Kal's right?" He hadn't meant to ask that question and, man, he really wished he hadn't, what with the scornful and disgusted look Alexei was giving him.  
        "And you're willing to let your _best friend_ die over a maybe?" Alexei dropped his wrist like it was a burning coal. "I was right, then, to call you an alien menace."  
        And that hurt. Like a blow to the chest, when he'd been vulnerable to such things. Alexei was right, he couldn't let Lex down for a maybe, not again. He closed his eyes and focused his hearing again, weeding out what he didn't need, searching for the heartbeat he knew better than anyone else's. He found it, latched onto it, and spread his aural 'net' a bit wider. The whistle of wind, moving fast, but . . . not as fast as he could go. He might be able to catch up.  
        He was already out of the cave and running as fast as he could—even faster than his 'race' with Bart—before he realised he'd left Alexei behind him without another word. His worries were allayed, however, when Alexei's voice crackled in his ear.  
        "Jesus, could you not do the disappearing act, Clark?" was the complaint he heard. His concentration wobbled for a moment and he had to slow down to reassure himself he still could hear Lex's heartbeat. "It's very disconcerting to be having an argument with you one minute and talking to myself the next. Hell, if I didn't know better, I'd think Lionel was resorting to hallucinogens in the scotch again."  
        "Could you kinda shut up?" Clark snapped, still struggling to hold onto Lex's heartbeat. Except, he'd always had trouble speaking at a 'normal' pace while he was in superspeed . . . .  
        "Could you also not try to talk and run at the same time?" Alexei snapped back. "I can't understand you and I left my super-to-normal instant replayer in my other suit. No, wait, in fact, just shut up and catch up to them before your future self kills Lex and I go poof into a pile of sparkly dust!" Clark had to snicker, despite the undeniable gravity of the situation. Alexei had said 'poof'. And 'sparkly'. "And don't laugh at me, dammit! Mind on the goal! Keep Lex from going splat."  
        Which got Clark to thinking. Surely, if all Kal had wanted to do was kill Lex (and laying aside the sneaking suspicion that Jor-El's conditioning hadn't quite taken hold), Lex would already be dead. Not to mention, if he'd _really_ wanted to get by Clark, it's not like Clark would have been able to stop him. So, yeah, it was kinda looking more and more like Kal, while still under whatever conditioning Jor-El had tried to impose on him, was deliberately working against himself.  
        All of which were thoughts that _didn't really help him_ when the ground disappeared from under his feet. Thankfully, superspeed was not limited to moving around really fast; he managed to do some kind of mid-air turn thingy and was able to cling like a monkey to the side of the cliff.  
        He clung for a moment, catching his breath and resolutely _not_ look down before—carefully—pulling himself up and over the edge of the cliff he had run off of almost without knowing it.  
        "What's wrong?" Alexei demanded with the absolute worst timing Clark had come to expect from him.  
        "Nothing," Clark gritted out, surveying the chunk he'd gouged out of the cliff in his last-minute attempt to stop. Last-second, more like. "I just ran out of land."  
        "And how is that a problem?"  
        "Uh, _air_? Beneath my _feet_?" Self-evident, Clark had thought, but maybe he was missing something. He took another look over the edge of the cliff and shuddered. It would make a pretty movie picture, but Clark was glad he hadn't plummeted to the artistically frothy waves at the foot of the cliff.  
        "_So_?" Alexei sounded irritated. "Look, it's not like I don't know you can fly, Clark. Hell, what do you think Kal's doing, for God's sake?"  
        Clark had opened his mouth to give a scathing reply, but stopped on hearing a whisper of sound from where his hearing was still focused.  
        "Clark?" Kal's startled voice said. "Clark, why are you following me?"  
        Clark refrained from snorting. "Take a wild guess!" he yelled back.  
        "Take a wild guess at _what_?" Alexei said. "Also, you don't need to yell, okay? You just about blew out my eardrums."  
        "Sorry, Lex, he was talking to me," Kal said. Clark rolled his eyes. Like Alexei had superhearing, too.  
        "Clark?" Alexei sounded startled. Not half as startled as Clark, judging by his immediate response—"Superventriloquism is not a power!"—but still, startled. "Kal, what the hell do you think you're doing with me?!"  
        "Saving everyone a lot of pain," was the bleak answer. "You. Me. The World."  
        "And _you've_ decided murder's the way to go?" The scorn in Alexei's voice could have flayed a rock. "I guess I was right about you all along."  
        "You know I'll drop him, Clark," Kal said, his tone conversational even as he flew higher. Alexei, he seemed to have put out of his mind. "Just think of it this way. If I drop him, he won't be able to do all those things that made me come back here in the first place. He'll be dead, I'll be . . . gone, and you? You get to live happily ever after!" A low laugh. "You'll thank me for it, trust me."  
        Clark wished, distractedly, for everyone to just _shut up_ while he tried to think of something to do. Kal had said something, hadn't he . . . ? Something about water being as hard as the ground. Then he gulped and looked over the edge of the cliff again. He could do this. Really, he could. It wasn't even that high, was it? And Kal was so much higher, with Lex in his arms, and really, it was a _good_ day for him to get over his fear of heights.  
        "Wish me luck," he muttered as he sped back a short distance and then prepared himself. He'd have to jump as high as he could, as fast as he could, and, well, he knew his legs would take the impact. Hopefully, so would the water.  
        "What?" Alexei in his ear sounded surprised, but he wasn't going to be distracted.  
        One more deep breath and he pushed off, trying to reach his top speed faster than he ever had before. THe cliff's edge beckoned and he planted himself and pushed off, trying to turn horizontal momentum into vertical. He succeeded, beyond his wildest dreams, and fought against the urge to close his eyes. The ground—water, whatever—rose to meet him far too quickly for his liking, but he braced himself and when he hit, he thrust up and out, turning vertical momentum back to horizontal. He was racing away by the time the water registered the hit, sending up a large plume behind him, but he was concentrating on Lex's heartbeat and keeping his footing—why he'd ever thought running on water would be smooth, he didn't know. There were wind waves and real waves and he really wished he could fly and just not have to care about them—and it just barely registered with him.  
        And even though Kal was moving at a respectable speed, it didn't take Clark long to catch up to him, although, to hear Alexei's griping, it was a span of time equivalent to an eternity. Of course, the problem was how to get up to him. A quick glance up cost him a stumble, but he recovered. Kal looked to be flying lower than his jump off the cliff had taken him. It wasn't a comforting observation. Unfortunately, it was likely the only way to get the black kryptonite to Kal and bring whatever brainwashing Jor-El had done to the fore.  
        "Gee, I love my life," Clark muttered as he looked as far ahead as he was able to, trying to pick out a flat enough expanse of water for what he wanted to do. One came up almost before he was ready, but he managed to place himself in time and he was airborne again and . . . Kal was not in sight. A quick look around showed that Kal had shifted his direction slightly, veering more south now. He landed again on the ocean's surface and changed direction, forcing his feet into the water to do it. Most of it flashed into steam, but what didn't provided barely enough grip for him to turn.  
        He braced himself again, hoping devoutly that it would be the last time; the feeling of his stomach being higher than his head was not one he wanted to repeated. He jumped, rising quickly. Kal saw him at the last moment and swerved. He made a wild grab and clipped Kal with the hand that held the tiny piece of black kryptonite. But his grip on both Kal's shoulder and the black kryptonite was not good and he watched both of them drop away from him.  
        And then the black kryptonite landed on Kal's bare neck. A sudden jolt shook Lex out of the alien's arms and, with a choked off cry, Lex began to fall.  
        Clark's eyes widened. "Lex!" he shouted, helpless as the momentum of his leap carried him upwards.  
        But then Kal sort of . . . shook himself. He looked around and then, in a move so fast even Clark couldn't see it, Lex was no longer falling, but cradled in Kal's arms again.  
        "Don't worry," Clark heard Kal say. "I've got you."  
        Clark didn't hear Lex's reply. He had realised that, yeah, his jump had reached its apex and now, he could only go down. "Oh, shiiiiiiiiiit!" he shrieked, wishing desperately to be able to fly as Kal could. _I can fly, I can fly, I can fly!_ he told himself frantically. _I know I can, because if Kal can, and Kal is me, then I can fly!_. The air rushing around him slowed, then stopped altogether. He opened one eye to see the ocean still below him, nay, even receding, and he thought maybe he had done it, maybe he flew.  
        "Don't worry, kid," Kal's dry voice said, a lot closer than it had been. "I've got you, too."

***

  
        The question now was, what were they going to do about it?  
        "I could take your memory," Kal offered, then winced at the combined glare from Lex and Alexei. "Right, sorry. Bad idea."  
        "How about . . . the truth?" Clark asked softly, looking at his hands. The silence in the room was sort of gratifying, especially since he'd realised, yeah, there had been no "right time" of Kal telling Alexei. He didn't want a future where that was true, not even when he and Lex were fighting. He'd . . . he'd always thought, no matter what, their _friendship_ would be the stuff of legend.  
        "Clark." It was hard to figure out whose hushed voice had said that, Lex or Alexei's. He looked up and found Alexei staring at him with a weird mix of emotions on his face. "Are you sure?" he asked. "You'd . . . do that?"  
        Clark shrugged, more than a little uncomfortable with all the attention he was getting. "Well, yeah," he replied. "I mean, it wasn't like I was planning on _never_ telling you."  
        "Is this true?" Alexei demanded of Kal, who was looking rather surprised and . . . thoughtful.  
        "It is," Kal said slowly, and shook his head. "I'd . . . forgotten, hadn't I."  
        "_**Why**_?"  
        Kal recovered himself enough to send a scornful glance towards Alexei. "Gee, lemme think. Should I or shouldn't I tell my _life-threatening secret_ to my morally ambiguous best friend? Who, by the way, was looking to mack on my girl."  
        Alexei snorted and leaned back. "Please," he said dismissively. "As if you weren't gay from the get-go. If anything, your little outfit proves it."  
        Kal rounded on him. "Gay or not, I didn't appreciate you trying to take her away from me!"  
        "Well, why shouldn't I?" Alexei shot back. "She took you away from _me_ often enough!"  
        "And that was a good reason to take her for yourself?" Kal shouted.  
        "Better that I have your jealousy than nothing!"  
        "Guys! Could you stop airing your dirty laundry for a minute!" Clark shouted. The stuff they were talking about, he could see a few too many depressing similarities with current events to be entirely comfortable hearing about it. He glanced at Lex, who was too studiously watching Alexei and Kal for what they were saying to be anything but the truth. Yeah, this was shaping up to be a _really_ good day.  
        "Sorry, kid," Kal muttered at last. "He just—"  
        "No," Clark said, rounding on him. "There is no 'just' for him when you didn't tell him anything." Which transferred Kal's glare to him.  
        "Pretty rich coming from the guy I was," Kal sneered. "I can see you've _really_ got a handle on Truth, Justice, and the American Way."  
        "Guys." Lex, this time, cutting in. "Could we please leave the accusations for, say, forever?" Clark took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Right, shouting matches with the him who could _fly_ and run _faster_ than the him he was . . . . Not smart. "Clark." Clark focused on Lex's face. "Did you have something you wanted to tell me?"  
        Clark gulped. Actually telling Lex the truth was a whole lot scarier than just thinking about doing it. But . . . he couldn't back away now, and not just because Lex and Alexei had seen him—and Kal, damn him—using his powers right in front of them. "Yeah, I guess I do." He took another deep breath. "Lex, I'm an alien. I came down with the meteor shower in '89 and I kinda have all these weird powers. Also, my planet exploded and I'm the last one of my kind and my parents didn't tell me until you ran me off the bridge. And the meteor rocks are called kryptonite and are kinda the only things that can hurt me and—"  
        He had to shut up because Lex's hand was over his mouth and Lex was looking at him with a smile in his eyes—God, how long had it been? How could he have forgotten how Lex looked when he was really, truly smiling?—and, yeah, telling wasn't because he had to, but because he never, ever wanted a future where Lex hated him.  
        "I think I get it," Lex told him softly. "Thank you."

***

  
        It was a warm spring day. The sun was shining, the fields were planted, and nothing catastrophic was happening to the world. It was a wonderful time to be alive and he'd often wished he was back in this carefree time.  
        "Were you looking for me?"  
        He turned around to see a mirror image of himself floating behind him. He looked at himself, seeing again the pain and weariness he had only dimly seen when he'd been younger. Even though they were the same age, he seemed so much older.  
        "Will it work?" his other self asked, hope and the painful anticipation of laying down a long unwanted burden colouring his voice. He nodded and his other self sighed with satisfaction. "Then get yourself back to your future and I'll make sure you get it."  
        "What about you?" he asked, although he already knew. "What will happen to you?"  
        His other self shrugged. "Fade away probably, like a bad anime cliche. Don't worry about it; it'll be worth it." He laughed shortly. "I bet even Lex would think it would be worth it." He cocked his head to one side. "Say, did you ever figure out what the breakpoint of your future was?"  
        It took an effort not to tell his other self he, too, would soon know how Lex felt, but he remembered all the needling he had endured and counted this as a small point to his side. He chuckled and answered the questions. "Actually, it was when I realised Lex might not be as straight as I thought he was."  
        His other self looked at him with disbelief. "That's _it_? That's _all_?"  
        He scowled. "We were dense as kids, you know that," he said, deliberately reminding the other him that he, too, was guilty of being as dense as a two-by-four. He saluted and rose into the air again. "I wish you luck," he said softly. _You're going to need it_, he thought with a satisfied grin as he streaked away, heading for the spot he and Lex had picked to meet up again. 


End file.
